January Thaw
by 2Old4This2
Summary: Hoth-Just prior to ESB. Even though things are awfully cold at Echo Base, every once in a while something happens to break the chill, at least for a little while. This is a little Han/Leia relationship building.
1. Chapter 1

**January Thaw**

_A _StarWars_ Fan Fiction_

_Author's Preface: I know that Hoth never had a thaw, and I'm reasonably sure our concept of the twelve months isn't followed in our favorite galaxy far, far, away, but readers from the cooler climates (of the Northern hemisphere) are most likely familiar with the January Thaw. _

_For those of you who are not: During most winters, there comes a time, usually in the middle of January, when the temperatures creep above freezing, the accumulated snow and ice disappear, and for a few blissful days, boots and long underwear are cast aside—in short, it feels like spring is on the way. This meteorological blip is especially precious since we all know that it's just a brief respite before the snow and cold returns—we take it for what it is—a promise of things to come. _

_####_

"You know," Luke called out, "it's really not so bad out here. At least when the sun is out."

Standing just inside the heavy shield doors, Leia looked at her friend in disbelief. She shivered.

"Come on," he encouraged her, a huge smile spread across his face, "Janson and some of the others are going to build a fort."

Leia smiled diplomatically and shook her head in the negative. "I have a meeting I have to go to," she called back to him. She moved aside as Hobbie and Chewbacca barreled past her and out into the blinding whiteness that was afternoon on Hoth.

"Aw, c'mon, Leia, it'll be fun!"

The princess smiled and nodded as her mother had taught her; a queenly acknowledgement with absolutely no acquiescence. She shivered again, and turned to walk back into the somewhat warmer environs of Echo base. She hurried past the parked x-wings and still non-functioning snow speeders, intent on grabbing a cup of kaf before she returned to the Command Center.

"Your Worship! Don't you want to go outside and play in the snow with the other kiddies?" Han Solo drawled. Leia felt her blood pressure rise at the sound of his voice.

She located the smuggler perched on top of the _Millennium_ _Falcon's_ port-side mandible, a hydro-spanner in one hand—one black-booted foot swinging lazily in mid-air. He slanted a cocky, off-center grin in her direction.

"Captain Solo," Leia inclined her head in his direction. "I don't have time to play," she informed him coolly, "I have a meeting I need to get to." She continued toward the tunnel leading to the base mess

Han jumped down off the ship, directly into the princess's path. "No you don't," he disagreed.

Leia skidded to a halt on the icy floor. "No I don't what?" she asked him. How, she wondered, did he always manage to make her feel like a child?

"You don't have a meeting to go to. They cancelled it until all the scouts get back to base. I know Wedge and Tycho are still out." He inclined his head in the direction of the open shield doors. "That's why half the base is out there building snow forts."

How did he know about the meeting already? Leia had only just found out about the cancellation herself. She scowled, hoping to hide the discomfiture Han Solo always seemed to cause her. "I'm trying to win a war; I don't have time for anything else," she replied haughtily. She stepped to the side, trying to get around the Corellian, only to have one foot slip out from underneath her.

Han reached out a hand to steady the princess, grasping her arm. Leia pulled it free with an angry jerk.

"I don't need your help!" She unconsciously rubbed at her sleeve, as if that could wipe away the warm tingle his touch had caused.

"Sorry, your Highness," he growled, all traces of his good humor vanished. "I was just trying to keep you from falling on your royal—" Han stopped short at the sound of excited voices coming in through the hangar entrance.

A group of snow-covered pilots and soldiers hurried in, accompanying Chewie, who was carrying a very unhappy looking Luke Skywalker in his arms.

"What happened?" Leia called out as she and Han hurried over to the group.

"Apparently our desert-raised commander here isn't too good in the snow," Janson explained good-naturedly. The group halted, milling around and laughing, offering varied descriptions of Luke's clumsiness, much to the young man's chagrin. "He slipped and wrenched his ankle," Janson continued. His tone grew serious. "I hope he didn't break it, he really went down hard."

"It's nothing," Luke objected. "C'mon Chewie, put me down." Embarrassment mixed with obvious pain on the young man's face, as he struggled half-heartedly against the Wookiee's strong grip.

Chewie growled a pleasant, but firm, negative. He continued toward the access tunnel.

"Hang on a minute, Chewie." Han held up a hand. He looked closely at Luke's leg. The boot was stretched tight over a rapidly swelling ankle. "That boot has got to come off." He looked at the small group surrounding them. "Somebody get me something to cut this with," he ordered.

"Han! Shouldn't we just take him to the medcenter?" Leia countered, though she sounded unsure in face of the Corellian's authority.

Han reached out a hand and touched Luke where the top of the boot was pressing into the badly swollen leg. The younger man flinched and let out a sharp gasp of pain. "Can you feel your toes?" Han asked him, his face serious.

Luke shook his head. "No, but it's because of the cold."

"No, you're not getting any blood to your foot because of the swelling," Han retorted sharply. "Do you want to lose some of those toes?" He looked at the crowd of faces surrounding them. "Somebody get me something to cut this boot off!"

"Han, here." Leia stepped forward with a sturdy pair of snips she'd tracked down in a nearby tool chest. With a distracted nod of thanks he took the implement and inspected Luke's boot. After a few careful cuts, the boot fell away. Luke groaned in pain as blood flowed back into the injured foot and ankle. With the boot gone it was obvious that the leg was broken.

"Well, get going!" Han waved in the direction of the medcenter; he tossed the snips back into the tool chest. The resulting clang echoed through the hangar.

Silently, Janson and Hobbie accompanied Chewie as he hurried off to the medcenter. Leia started off after them, then paused and turned back.

"Thank you, Han," she said. She hurried off after Chewbacca.

Han watched her disappear into the tunnel.

"You're welcome," he said, when he was sure she could no longer hear him.

####

**Han paused in the narrow hallway that led to Rogue squadron's crew quarters.** He listened for a moment to the upraised voice he could hear coming from the open doorway of Luke's small room.

"But I don't fly standing up!" he heard his young friend say. Apparently, they'd grounded him until the bones in his newly repaired ankle had a chance to knit together completely. That would take another couple of days; Han smiled in understanding sympathy.

The smile was quickly exchanged for his more familiar mask of swaggering self-assurance when he heard the other voice coming from the room.

"It will only be for a few days," Leia was reassuring Luke. There was a little bite hidden in her patient tone. Han guessed she'd said the same thing to Luke more than a few times already.

"But—"

"Give it up, kid," Han strode into the room, pulled out the lone chair from the workstation, and quickly flipped it backwards. With a grin, he straddled the seat, and draped his arms over the back. "When her Worship says something's going to be a certain way, it's certainly going to be that way." He smirked at Luke, who lounged on his bunk with his injured leg propped up on a cushion. Leia had one trim hip perched on the edge of the workstation.

She aimed an exasperated look impartially at both men as she addressed Luke. "Two-onebee says that it takes several days for the treatment to be complete. If you don't follow instructions, and you put too much stress on it, you risk more serious damage—and being grounded for more than two days. You're just going to have to wait."

"You know, I hate to agree with her, kid," Han shot the princess an impudent smile, "but you're probably better off waiting. I've flown with broken bones; it ain't fun."

"Really?" Luke's eyes brightened with anticipation at the possibility of hearing about another of Han's adventures. "What happened?"

Han shifted uncomfortably on his seat, rubbing his hand across his mouth. The grin disappeared. "Ah, you don't want to hear about it, junior." He may have said it to Luke, but his eyes were on the Princess's face.

"Sure we do, don't we, Leia?" Luke said.

No, she didn't. The stories that Han told were inevitably colorful and self-aggrandizing, dealing with drinking, smuggling, and other unsavory escapades

"I'm sure it's nothing that we need to hear about, Captain," Leia proclaimed haughtily. "We've all heard your stories."

The chair screeched on the cold metal floor as Han sprang to his feet, his eyes hot with anger. "Now, listen, sister—"

Leia straightened and clasped her arms tightly across her chest. Luke pulled himself upright.

"Hey, commander! I understand you had a little accident." Grinning, Wedge Antilles sailed into the small room, still clad in his flight suit. The teasing smile on his face slowly faded as he regarded the tense tableau. "Uh," he stuttered to a stop. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Nothing at all," Han barked. "Take care of that leg, kid." He stormed from the room, leaving the other three in stunned silence.

"What was that about?" Wedge asked finally.

"I have no idea," Leia said.

They both looked at the empty doorway.

####

**Watching over Luke's shoulder, Leia could see that he was going to lose this hand of sabacc, just like he'd lost every other hand he'd been dealt.** Obviously they didn't play sabbac very often at Tosche Station on Tatooine. Luke was hopeless at it; the exact opposite of Han Solo, who rarely lost a game.

Han hadn't shown up for the game in Zev and Hobbie's quarters. That wasn't like him; he was usually the first one there and the last one to leave. In fact, Leia hadn't seen him since he'd stormed from Luke's quarters hours ago. But that was his problem, not hers. If he was going to be as ill-tempered as a krayt dragon…

"And I win again," Wedge smiled in satisfaction as he raked the pot toward himself. "I'd like to thank you all for your kind donations." The losing players whined and complained good-naturedly. The pot was a mixed bag of credits, IOU's, promises of duty-watches traded, and a few miscellaneous trinkets. The reality was there wasn't much need for money on Hoth; there was nothing to spend it on.

"Another hand?" Dak asked eagerly, sounding ridiculously young.

"Aren't you tapped out, kid?" Wedge responded. "I really don't want take everything you've got."

Leia's head snapped around to look at the pilot; he'd sounded an awful lot like Han just then. Well, that was because they were both Corellians, she told herself. And why in hells was she thinking about Han Solo?

"I'm in!" Janson called out.

"Me, too!"

Leia rolled her eyes at the sound Luke's voice. He was just going to lose again. "Hey, Leia?" he continued. "Do you want to play a hand?"

Leia shook her head. She did play sabacc, probably not as well as Wedge, but certainly better than Luke—but then anyone could play better than Luke. Mostly she played the game just to pass the time. The last mission she'd been on with Luke and Han, the three of them, along with Chewie, had played together on the Falcon while the ship traveled through hyperspace. She and Han had been fierce competitors; and she'd enjoyed that game more than she'd ever thought she would.

"I'm going to grab some kaf," she told Luke, "then I'm going to head back to my quarters. I have some reports I need to work on."

" 'Night, Leia," Luke said abstractedly, staring at his cards. Several of the other players muttered farewells before they started the next hand.

Walking toward the mess, Leia's mind wandered. She had a feeling that Luke and Dak were going to lose their shirts tonight—just figuratively, she hoped. She couldn't understand how Luke could be such a dreadful sabacc player when he normally showed remarkable instincts for reading people. Like earlier today, for instance.

After Han's precipitous departure from Luke's quarters, Wedge had made his own exit as quickly as he could, leaving Luke and Leia alone in an uncomfortable silence.

"Do you think maybe you should go find out if Han's okay?" Luke had asked her, rather tentatively.

"Captain Solo is a grown man, he doesn't need anyone to check up on him." Leia's eyebrows drew together. "He's made it perfectly clear that he doesn't need anyone other than himself."

"I don't think I've ever seen him so worked up before," Luke observed.

Leia had been thinking the same thing. "I'm sure he's fine," was her response. "He had no reason to get so angry."

"There's a lot of stuff we don't know about Han," Luke replied. "Stuff that happened to him when he was young. Chewie says that some of it was bad."

Somehow, Leia had never thought about Han being anything other than being a pilot, a ship's captain, a smuggler. The thought of his even having a past, a childhood, was a new concept for her.

"I don't know," Luke continued, "maybe we should try to be a little nicer to him."

_We, meaning me, _Leia thought, piqued. "I'm sure he's just fine," she had insisted vehemently.

But Luke had planted the seeds in her mind. Leia found herself heading for the hangar instead of the commissary. Maybe she'd see if she could find the elusive Captain Solo. Just to quiet that irritating voice inside her head. Yes, that was the only reason…


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note: My bad, I forgot to thank my beta, StatsGrandma57 for her invaluable assistance. Thank you!_

**January Thaw**

_Chapter Two_

**The massive shield doors were closed against the deadly nighttime cold of Hoth. **However, that didn't mean there was any cessation of activity in Echo base's hangar area. There were mechanics, technicians, droids, even some pilots, all busily at work—conducting a revolution was an all-hours task. Leia nodded to some of the workers, stopped and talked to a few others, all the while wishing she could have made this trip unobserved. She was being ridiculous, she knew, but she couldn't help herself. She didn't want to give the base rumor mill anything to talk about when it came to herself and Han Solo. Gods knew he would be impossible if someone announced that she and the Captain had a late night tryst.

The _Millennium_ _Falcon_ looked cold and dark to Leia. She peered up the boarding ramp, but didn't see any sign of the ship's crew. She was about to leave when Chewie rumbled at her from just inside the hatch. Leia's understanding of shyriiwook had greatly improved since the Wookiee had joined their ranks, but she wasn't fluent by a long shot. At this moment, she wasn't really sure what he was saying. It might be because she was tired, but Leia didn't think so. As impossible as it sounded, Chewbacca appeared to be whispering. Both curious and a little unsure, Leia met him halfway up the ramp.

"Chewie," she began, "I was looking for Han. Is he here?"

Obviously still trying to keep his voice low, Chewbacca's normal growls, barks, and moans sounded very much like the Wookiee had laryngitis—or that was being throttled! Leia did her best to interpret the sounds, and the accompanying arm gestures.

"So, he's here?" Leia tried to confirm. "Is he sleeping?" That was the only reason she could think of for Chewie trying to be quiet. On other occasions, though, she had witnessed that Han could sleep through anything. Maybe he was ill? That could explain his behavior earlier. Leia felt the tiniest tendril of concern squirm in her belly. She gave it a quick mental boot.

Chewie shook his head emphatically in the negative, sending his tawny hair flying.

"Then he's not here." Confusion quickly replaced concern. What was the whispering for?

He rumbled something low in his throat that Leia couldn't understand.

"I'm sorry, Chewie, I didn't catch that."

With an aggravated shoulder shrug and a mumbled bark, the Wookiee guided Leia back down to the base of the ramp. He looked at her with narrowed eyes, as if he were trying to gauge her worthiness.

Enough mystery, Leia thought.

"Okay, tell me what's going on with Han!" she ordered emphatically. She went toe-to-toe with Chewie, tilting her head all the way back to look him square in the eyes.

The Wookiee's blue eyes carefully scanned the area surrounding the ship, but Leia refused to let him distract her.

"Chewie, I'm waiting for an explanation!"

With a sigh, the Wookiee turned his attention to the irate princess. In a rumbling monologue, he explained to her that there were some things from Han's past he didn't talk about. Today, he'd actually come close to telling Luke about one of those things, until the Princess had said she didn't want to hear.

"Since when has what I want to hear ever mattered to Han Solo?" she burst out.

Flinging both arms in the air, Chewie opined that for a smart woman, she could be very blind at times.

Leia felt her temper flare. It was bad enough she had to put up with Han's taunts, barbs, and other indignities—now she was supposed to put up with them from Chewbacca too?"

"Okay, why don't you tell me what it is that even Han Solo would be too embarrassed to talk about." Chewie grumbled, ready to interrupt, but Leia just raised her voice and kept going.

"I've heard his stories," she continued. The princess was on a roll now, every perceived insult or offense she'd ever suffered at the hand of Han Solo fueling her ire. "I can't picture anything he could have done that he would be the least bit hesitant to share—especially with Luke, who apparently worships the very ground Han walks on!"

Chewbacca's blue eyes narrowed dangerously; he roared an angry exclamation at Leia. The Princess didn't flinch, but she did back up a step—he was one big Wookiee—and she took several calming breaths. There was no need to include Chewie in her bad tempered rant.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but would you please explain to me why you are so upset. Why Han was so upset? I just don't understand."

Chewie stepped back a pace as well. He ducked his head once and moaned out his own apology. He continued with another series of warbles, barks, and growls; then concluded by taking Leia's arm and propelling her in the direction of the corridor leading back to the base's center.

Leia looked at the fur-covered hand grasping her arm. For such a large creature, he could be quite gentle, she thought. And his devotion to Han was paramount. She smiled at him.

"Okay, I'll go find Han and talk to him myself," she said. "You're right, Chewie, whatever he wanted to say, it's his story to tell. I probably owe him an apology, too." Then her eyes flashed. "But he certainly doesn't make it easy." She looked up into Chewie's understanding blue eyes.

The Wookiee surprised her with a warbled chuckle and an encouraging pat on the shoulder. Then he turned her and gave her a gentle (for him) shove in the direction of the main access tunnel. She only stumbled a little on the slippery floor. It was when Leia had regained her equilibrium that she became aware of the group of beings surrounding them. Now she understood why Chewie had been trying to be quiet. At this time of night, there was nothing else of interest for anyone to see. So much for not attracting attention, she thought wryly. She probably shouldn't have shouted. With practiced dignity, she made her way through the group of pilots and techs, and headed into the corridor. Maybe, she thought hopefully, they'd think that she and Chewbacca were having the tryst.

####

**This whole day had become an exercise in the ludicrous, Leia thought, as she trudged through the icy tunnel. **And she still hadn't gotten her kaf! How many hours had it been since she'd first contemplated it? Too many, she was sure of that. Standing at a junction in the warren of corridors, Leia paused to consider. A quick step to one side would take her to her small quarters where she could crawl under the covers and get warm. Just a step in the other direction would send her to the mess. The thought of sleep was enticing, but Chewie's suggestions, Luke's inferences, even Han's fury had her stepping toward the busy commissary instead of her quiet quarters. That damn Corellian better be there.

Like the hangar area, Echo Base's mess _cum_ cantina was an all-hours operation. Even at planetary midnight, there were individuals who were just coming off duty and others who were just going on duty. And there was one temperamental Corellian, sitting alone at small table in a far corner of the room, absent-mindedly twisting a mug between his fingers. Leia served herself a kaf—finally—and walked over to where Han was seated. When she was close enough, she could see that he was reading from a small datapad. Leia cleared her throat politely.

In one sleek motion, Han thumbed the device off and slid it into a pocket of his jacket. He looked at the princess with a scowl that didn't quite hide his curiosity at finding her here at this time of night.

"Your Worship," he nodded his head with mocking respect, "is there some sort of emergency that has you out of your quarters and associating with us rabble at this late hour?"

Leia ordered the smart retort in her head to stay there. She'd promised Chewie that she'd listen, but _stang_, Han made it so hard!

"I finally got my kaf," she said instead, holding up the cup as evidence. The only response she received was an arched brow. "May I sit?"

"It's your rebellion," Han waved negligently at an empty seat.

No presumptions, she reminded herself, as she placed her mug on the battered surface of the table and pulled out a chair. She noted that his mug contained kaf as well, not some sort of potent liquor, as she'd expected.

"Luke is doing well," Leia began as she seated herself, hoping that small talk might break down a portion of the defensive wall Han always seemed to have surrounding him.

"Kid's resilient," was the less than helpful response. "As long as he stays off the leg for a day or two and lets it heal he'll be fine."

Leia nodded. "I'm sure we can keep him occupied for a day."

"It's not my problem." Han tipped the mug up and emptied it.

"Well, just what is your problem?" she asked him, snapping her own mug down on the table. "You've been bad-tempered all day!" Kaf sloshed over the mug's rim. "Stang!" she muttered irritably.

"Do you actually want an answer to that?" Han snapped back. "You made it pretty clear before that you weren't interested in what I had to say!"

Leia opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. She looked carefully at the man across the table from her. He was angry, really mad, but there was something else there, behind the fury. Taking a deep breath, Leia cleared her mind and looked at him again, the way she would if she were negotiating a truce or peace treaty. She could see remembered pain filling the hazel eyes—and pride—along with the anger; which was directed at her, of course. This was obviously something he felt very strongly about.

"Han, I'm sorry about before," she said gently. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did." Leia swallowed her pride and continued. "What was it you wanted to tell Luke? Some advice, maybe? I can pass it along if you don't want to go back there and talk to him."

There was something there, something he wanted to talk about. Something he wanted her to know; Leia could feel it.

"The kid shouldn't fly with broken bones, that's all."

No, that's not all, Leia thought. "You said before that you had."

"Yeah."

Leia felt her ire rise, but tamped it back down. Just a little more encouragement, she thought. "That must have been very painful for you," she said sympathetically.

"Not at the time, too much adrenaline. I had a hold full of kids."

"Kids?" Leia hadn't expected to hear that from Han Solo.

"Yeah."

Slowly, at first, then with more confidence, Han told the story. He'd been picking up a load of prime Corellian brandy in one of the more out of the way locations of his homeworld. He been alone, Chewie was on Kashyyyk visiting his family. But it was an easy job—until the earthquake hit. Han had been caught in a rockslide that broke his left foot; so had a group of schoolchildren out for a field trip. So what was he supposed to do? He crawled through the debris, pulling children free. Then he'd dumped the brandy and loaded the bunch of injured and scared kids into the Falcon and delivered them to safety at the regions single medcenter.

The princess listened, mesmerized, as the smuggler spoke. The bloodstripe! She'd always wondered what he could have possibly done—now she knew. Rescuing children. Leia almost laughed. It made perfect sense. Thief, smuggler, scoundrel…and hero. She could see it in him, when he wasn't trying to hide it. Like today with Luke and his broken ankle. There was so much more to Han Solo…

"…and when Chewie finally got hold of me, he let me know he was never going to let me out of his sight again. That I couldn't be trusted. Well, at least CorSec never figured out where the brandy came from!" The off-center grin was back, briefly. He looked at Leia.

"Am I boring you, your Worship?" Han asked testily.

"What?" Leia yanked her attention back to Hoth in the middle of a frigid night, and away from Corellia and a brave man willing to risk his life for a group of school children he'd never met.

"No, Han, you're not boring me at all." She smiled at him. "Thank you for telling me," Leia said, and she knew that she meant it. "I'll be sure to tell Luke."

"Nah, don't bother." Han waved a negligent hand. He looked curiously at the princess. Leia didn't know what to say. She didn't know if she should say anything. It was the most she'd ever learned about Han Solo and she didn't want anything to ruin the moment.

"So, what are you reading?" Leia asked him. Wow! That was smooth, Leia thought.

"What? Oh," Han smiled self-conciously. He pulled the datapad from his jacket and slid it across the table.

Leia looked at the title and had to work very hard to keep from smileing. It was just one more surprise from the man. The princess had read the same story—a rather sweet fantasy—not a week previously. This was not what she expected to find in Han's pocket.

"I didn't know you read."

One eyebrow rose.

"You know what I meant. I just didn't think that would be your style."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, your Worship." His hazel eyes met her brown ones, serious and intense, as if he wanted her to see more.

Leia felt her breath catch.

"Besides," The smug grin reappeared. "There's hardly anything to read on this ice cube."

Leia felt relief flood through her. This was familiar territory, she knew where she stood with him again.

"You aren't kidding!" she agreed. "I'm glad we had this time to talk, Han."

"So am I," Han said.

Leia yawned. It had been a very long day.

"I think I'm going to go to bed."

"Let me walk you to your quarters

Han rose and offered his arm. Leia stared dumbly at it.

"We can't risk you slipping and falling on your…" Han teased.

With a smile, Leia placed her hand on it. As they walked toward her quarters, she was surprised at how warm the corridor suddenly felt.


End file.
